Talons of the East
by EternalSushi
Summary: In the sprawling metropolis of the Hong Kong region, the Talons of the East a gang with its beak clutching the region like prey. A young teenager rises through the ranks to discover that things always stay the same. Will he choose to follow, or destroy? He might have some...hidden ambitions...


**Chapter One - The Circle Stays Unbroken**

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><p>"RAGGH!"<p>

Violent ear splitting screams of deaf defying agony echoed across the dimly-lit blood streaked arena, followed by howls and growls that sent cracks through the stone-cold concrete floor. There were no jeers of excitement...only the occasional whisper and the disappointing groans of the masses that had chosen the former. Had someone lost their bet already? But one wouldn't back down from an unlucky guess and one need not worry, as the fights would go on until the arrival of day. In the end, there would only be one victor, a trial of blood and bone, a fight to the bitter end.

It wasn't fair they had all known that. A fire burns bright in the hearts of the dead, and the skull embracing hound burned hotter as its temper flared, his fangs bared with anticipation. Beneath its distinct form - a wounded, pride-lost beast laid torn, bloodied and beaten. The marks of several gruesome burns dotted its fur, leaving shriveled burnt flesh to the pain of the crisp air. Bite marks dotted its legs, preventing it from rising, and the marks were so deep that the bone was on display like the sickest piece of art. The electric mane, its embodiment of a proud pokemon had been stripped away, torn from its head like a badge of brutal battle. It was no longer sparkling with power.

Please...no more. The pleas of a defeated being were left unnoticed by the silhouettes that surrounded its battered body. Eyes of evil men seething with the rage of tortured souls. Their glare burned hotter than the Houndoom's roar flames. The horns on its skull made it as if the devil itself was waiting for it in the pits of hell in a wave of nightmarish torture.

Please stop. Nobody listened, nobody cared. Make it stop. Nobody listened, nobody cared. Just stop! Nobody listened, nobody cared. The Manectric let out a silent cry as its enemy's jaws clamped down at his neck, causing him to tremble with tremendous agony. The teeth burned hotter than the never ending sun, searing, singing...what little fur it had left. The battered Pokemon felt its electricity drain from his body. Its strength. Its pride.

"I wouldn't wanna through all that." Thought the boy. He watched from the stands up from, staring at the dying beast. In their eyes, however, it was less than a mere insect - a disposable tool.

"You see here, Weng, this is only one of the Talon's many money making opportunities." The man before him was covered from head to tail in tattoos. He knew what they all meant. Everyone knew what they meant - The skull. He had killed before. The spider. He had tortured before. The Hand of a Mr. Mime. He had killed a Pokemon before. The Queen of hearts. He had raped before. And their were many, many more. Some repeated, meaning he has done them more than once.

Casper did not want to count them all. He shuddered at the thought that one day he would be like the man before him. Today was the day he became that man.

"Just call me Casper." He muttered under the heavy lump in his throat. He felt his stomach gagging as he watched the Houndoom lift the Manectric to its wounded feet, jaws clamped tight around its throat. He wasn't in a chatty mood.

"We have a present for you, grunt." He handed him a Pokeball. It's coloration had been transformed to the that of the Talons of the East. A golden upper half with a Red lower half. Three black claw marks were emblazoned on the front like a symbol of pride. He didn't feel pride by looking at it - it simply worsened the feeling within his stomach.

"What is it?" asked the new member of the gang. There was no true reason why he had asked that simple question, but even if he had, they would kill it. For that was the way of the Talons. 'Care' was not in their dictionary, and it meant nothing but hatred and regret.

"Every grunt has to start somewhere." His eyes turned to the Manectric, his glare caused it to whimper in fear. Casper pressed the button, and the Manectric turned into a black stream of crackling energy, swirling around in the air before flowing into his capsule. At the same time, the Houndoom's jaws snapped shut with satisfaction. Fire exhaled from its nostrils as it stood triumphantly in the ring. It was a conquer-no, a king amongst mere squabbling beasts. Soon, it lept off the stage returned to its Master - a man sitting above the crowd on a throne of solid shimmering gold.

"Wu Shu Ren. The leader of the Talons." Casper mouthed he watched in awe as the man sat there with his signature clawed gloves sparkling under the stage lights. Then, he simply waved his hand, commencing the upcoming slaughterfest.

What happened after took Casper by surprise. The arena changed before him. Shifting, mutating into a new shape. The stands around it moved further back. Whatever was going to be released, Casper knew it was big. Damn big. Protective glass descended from above, shielding them from the monsters that waited beneath.

"Tyranitar and Aggron, the fight of a millennium." said Ren softly into his microphone. The roars of the beasts beneath,muffled by the glass, were still sending shivers of fear down everyone's spines.

"May the strongest survive, and let the defeated stay forgotten."


End file.
